Words We Can't Say
by Selyann
Summary: There are words we can't say even after a century. Shortfic for Takasugi's birthday.


**Author Note:** Happy birthday, Shinsuke Takasugi.

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**Words We Can't Say**

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In the middle of the night Takasugi sat still, clutching the thin material that covered his legs loosely. He had been gazing absently at the wall opposite for a while now, taking no notice of his surroundings; it was as if the world had ceased to exist to him.

Suddenly, his eyes were drawn downwards and he frowned as he looked at his knuckles.

It was time.

Somewhere beside him Gintoki stirred in his sleep. Paying it no heed, Takasugi prised himself off the futon and stretched. He moved across the room, his feet making little sound as they connected with the tatami flooring. Katsura seemed to be watching him, but he knew that it was merely because he always slept with his eyes wide open.

He cast the room one last look before groping for the sliding door and opening it quietly.

Once Takasugi was out he turned left and went down the corridor, still questioning his sanity. However, hesitation would not get him anywhere.

The building was silent for everyone was sleeping soundly – everyone but him. As he was walking he briefly recalled how everything had seemed so vast when he had first come here. Everything had been so new and interesting, although back then he had initially objected to staying. Since then he had grown and his outlook on things had changed as well.

_That_ included ... but it was an entirely different matter.

Finally he broke step before another door and slid it open ever so slightly.

When Takasugi peered inside, he saw that he was up as well. The shoji door to the outside was wide open and he stood there with one hand against it, staring at the orderly garden with its well-groomed bonsai trees.

Takasugi watched how the moonlight reflected off the man's long hair which was moving lightly in the night zephyr. Mesmerised by the sight, he slid the door slightly wider open so that he could step inside, and he moved across the room quietly. However, he failed to notice a cup sitting on the floor and knocked it over accidentally.

He froze on the spot.

'Shinsuke?' the man said softly as he turned round.

He did not reply but instead looked at the floor next to Shouyou's feet. He was not sure what to do; he had not planned this far ...

Shouyou smiled at him serenely and asked, 'Are you troubled by something?'

Takasugi's eyes were drawn upwards and met his sensei's. He opened his mouth to say something, but it had gone dry and he could not make a sound. He was feeling unreasonably uncomfortable and simply closed his mouth and looked to the side. He was angry with himself. He had come here for a reason, so why was he just letting this chance slip by?

Shouyou took a couple of steps towards him. 'Shinsuke ...' he said as stood in front of his student. 'Is there any way I can help you?'

His cheeks were beginning to grow slightly warmer but he still refused to face his sensei. 'Sensei ...' he began, his voice constricted with emotion, but found himself unable to finish.

Was he really willing to ...?

Shouyou put his hand against Takasugi's forehead. The touch felt cold, but it only made his face feel even warmer and he was sure he did not understand his body any more.

'Do you have a fever?'

He looked up into Shouyou's eyes, eyes that expressed nothing more or less than concern.

Nothing between them had changed since the day he had become his student.

And perhaps precisely that was a problem in Takasugi's eyes.

In a sudden upsurge of courage, he wrapped his arms around his sensei's body and pressed his face against his shoulder. 'I ...'

The long hair was tickling his nose but he did not seem to notice.

'Sensei, I ...' he broke off again and his arms tightened around Shouyou's waist, his fingers pressing into his back urgently. His eyes slid shut slowly.

His voice was betraying him. However, even without that, he would not have known what exactly to say anyway.

He could swear he felt Shouyou smile softly as his arms sneaked around Takasugi's body and pressed them closer together ...

'Shinsuke ...'

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'Shinsuke.'

Takasugi's eye flew open. He did not move as he gazed at the ceiling and then slowly in the direction of the window. From the looks of it, it was morning already.

So it had been a dream ...

'Shinsuke?'

The door slid open slowly and revealed a person.

'We've just arrived. I thought you should know.'

Takasugi sat up, holding his left hand against his face. 'I see,' he drawled in reply.

Bansai scrutinised him before speaking up again. 'Have you been drinking again? You're not looking too well, I daresay. You should take better care of yourself, Shinsuke.'

With that he walked away, sliding the door shut and leaving Takasugi alone once again.

The man smiled wryly against his hand.

So it had been a stupid dream ...

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The End

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I feel sort of bad for making his birthday gift this depressing ...

My Gintama OTP: Takasugi/Shouyou.

How old is Takasugi in the first part of this story? I don't know. However old you think he should be. Does anyone even know how old he is now? 'In his twenties' is all we know.

Did he dream of his past or was it simply something he wished for? That's for you to decide.

On another note, I'm working on a sequel to my Takasugi/Gintoki fan fiction _On a Moonlit Night Insects _are_ Drawn to Light Too_.

I hope you enjoyed, even if the pairing is rather uncommon!


End file.
